Wilma

The Sun King writes from outside Ft. Lauderdale after the Hurricane Wilma did a number on the Kulick compound, as seen in the picture he sent.

This one just about sums it up. No power. No phone. No cell. Minimal water and all the beer is getting warm....where is FEMA? Which way to the Superdome?

But the wireless internet connection was still in tact! Remember to thank Al Gore.

Heck, I knew George Bush didn't like black people, but who knew us whities were also at risk of being hit by a hurricane? Maybe he let this one hit just to make it look like he was an equal opportunity president. Anyone choosing to make donations to Kulick can send them through me. Unfortunately, no compensation can alleviate the suffering caused by the short-term damage to his tan - these are the intangible costs of natural disasters that can't be covered by insurance. Maybe Katie Couric should do a story on Mike's plight.

In more traumatic news, last week this Wednesday the Hatcher suffered a deep laceration between the knuckles of the ring and middle fingers on my left hand. I was cruising up to a red light on my bike, between a row of cars waiting for the light to change and a row of parked cars, when a woman sprung the passenger door open to exit her car. The door sliced right through the skin, but did not impede my forward progress. There was a large gaping whole, about an inch in diameter; when I spread my fingers it opened up into a small pool of blood. I didn't cry.

I went to urgent care for four stitches. As luck would have it, my firm recently offered us the ability to purchase supplemental insurance from Aflac. It pays you certain fees for all different types of accidents - cuts, broken bones, dismembered limbs. I figured with four sons, a trampoline that is 12 feet in diameter, and my lax parenting skills, Aflac insurance would be my most lucrative investment. I got $65 for the stitches and $120 for the visit to urgent care. If only my cut were in excess of 5 cm, I would have gotten $250 plus the $120 for the emergency room visit. Damn my luck!

Anticipating the inevitable advice of the Anonymous Chartreuse Alcoholic, prior to going to urgent care I disinfected the wound with a shot of chartreuse. Good thing I have a case in my desk at work - you never know when you are going to need it. In any event, the urgent care scene was quite dramatic. I insisted that she not amputate either finger; it would throw off the balance of my left hand and make typing with my left index finger inordinately hard, causing irreparable harm to my career as a corporate consultant who needs to type almost daily. I pleaded for cortisone just to get through the day without loss of productivity. She explained that it barely needed stitches. I fear she got her MD in the Falklands.

In other news, Sam Alito is a huge Phillies fan. If I were gay, I'd want to marry him, except for the fact that he'll never rule in favor of it.

Finally, I'm still laughing over last night's episode of the Office - easily the funniest show on television. In the scheduling, it's up against the hour long campaign commercial for Hillary starring Geena Davis. If that kills the Office, there is no justice in this world.